


The Island

by Hormonal_Trashbag



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Light Angst, Reylo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 11:31:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8204650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hormonal_Trashbag/pseuds/Hormonal_Trashbag
Summary: The sleepless nights were getting to her. Even now, in wakefulness, she could feel him, a ghosting ache she could do little to relieve.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short one-shot inspired by Slow Burn, by Crywolf. If it doesn't scream reylo, I don't know what does.

And I can't sleep a wink these nights  
You're still here with me  
And I feel you pull me  
Pullin’ me down

I can't escape from ya  
I can still feel your claws in me, twistin 'round  
I can't explain what you did to me  
And now I'm stuck here

Dreamin’ in my mind  
You're rubbing on my chest  
You're all up in my brain  
Baby, you are taking the best of me

Parts of me are gone  
I'm about to break  
‘Cause I know this isn't how it should be

 

* * *

 

“Rey, are you feeling okay?”

She jolted at the sound of Finn’s voice. She blinked back her daze before turning to him. His expression was both concerned and stern, and Rey wondered if _this_ was how a child felt being chastised by a parent; guilty and resentful at the same time. Which wasn’t fair. Finn hadn’t done anything wrong. He was just trying to be a good friend.

The sleepless nights were getting to her. Even now, in wakefulness, she could _feel_ him, a ghosting ache she could do little to relieve.

“I’m fine,” she said, only to regret the firm edge to her tone the moment she spoke.

“Really,” Rey insisted, reaching across the mess table to pat his forearm. “There’s nothing wrong.”

This was a giant fucking lie, of course. Everything was wrong.

She wasn’t as talented a liar as she thought. Finn remained unconvinced. He twisted his arm to capture her hand and hold it fast. His palm was warm, and she hadn’t realized how cold her hand was until she had his to compare it to. He squeezed her fingers, and however much she might have protested hand-holding before, it was a small luxury she was becoming accustomed to.

“I’m worried,” he confessed, his large, brown eyes doleful. “A lot of us are.”

 _Us._ The word made her want to curl her lip back with disgust. How much of that was _his_ influence?

She forced a smile. Finn had taken to his new life at the Resistance base with startling grace, but she still struggled with the feeling that she was an outsider, even months after returning from Ahch-To, turned away by the _great_ Luke Skywalker without any form of explanation. The last Jedi hadn’t wanted her, and she could hardly see how she, lowly scavenger that she was, was supposed to contribute to a military effort that consisted of properly trained combatants. She may have held her own in a fight once, but she was no Jedi, as many Resistance members liked to call her.

“That’s sweet of you, but there’s no need to worry,” she said. “I swear.”

He looked her up and down, uncertain. “I don’t think I’ve seen you eat anything in two days at least. You look exhausted.”

Rey retracted her hand. When it fell into her lap, her gaze followed it. Shame blossomed on her cheeks at the realization that if what Finn said was true, no one was convinced that she was in her right mind. The entire Resistance must have been watching from a distance, waiting for her to snap too, like the only other force-user she knew had. Maybe they were smart, to expect her to break as he had. Skywalker had rejected her, after all.

“Are you getting any sleep at all?” Finn asked, his voice imploring.

Rey closed her eyes, head still ducked to hide her face. “Not a wink.”

He sighed, and the sound infuriated her. He stood to walk around the table and take the seat next to her. His warm palm rested on her shoulder.

“You can talk to me, you know. That’s what friends are for.”

She rolled her shoulder, dislodging his hand, sitting up straight. “No, I really can’t.”

Rey stood. She hadn’t bothered filling a breakfast tray, instead grabbing a steaming cup of caf to nurse. What remained was lukewarm now.

“I’ll see you later,” she said, hoping she wouldn’t and hating that she felt that way.

 

* * *

 

Rey had always liked heights. The higher she climbed, the safer she became. The Resistance base was sprawling, and expanded from an ancient castle whose civilization was long extinct. She reveled in the many towers that still stood on their last legs, much too precarious to be places of operation.

While she had been given private quarters upon arrival, Rey had long since stripped her room of its few accommodations and transferred them to one such tower. If anyone took notice, they certainly didn’t address the matter. She suspected that most people didn’t pay close enough attention to realize that she stopped using her quarters within a few weeks of being assigned them.

Her tower offered her the sort of isolation Rey found herself missing after spending too much time amongst the Resistance troops. If there was one good thing about Jakku, it was the merciful silence, but at least from her tower she was unable to hear life bustling through the base halls.

She was never alone, however.

 _You don’t belong there,_ was a fact that constantly pulled at her, a cruel reminder from her tormentor. _I would never forsake you. You would be cherished._

Rey believed him. Kylo Ren wouldn’t abandon her, or shun her, or even hurt her if she turned to him, twisted and miserable though he was. This knowledge spurred temptation in her.

 _I know,_ she would push back into his mind. His responding feelings were always of relief, rather than inflated self-satisfaction or haughtiness. So long as she knew, so long as she knew. It was oddly encouraging, but that only gave her more guilt.

Her mattress, situated directly on the floor, was covered in an assortment of old, thinning sheets she had found in storage and heavy, woven blankets; her tower was not well insulated, and she was a desert dweller at heart. The cold still seeped into her too easily. When she settled into her nest that evening, it was in surrender.

If she slept, then she dreamed. And if she dreamed, she would see him without fail.

Falling asleep was like waking up, and she feared the consequences of that. What if she reached a point where her dreams felt more like reality than when she was awake? The dreams were always so beautiful. Already, she preferred them to life.

Within moments, his arms were surrounding her from behind, his chin propped on her shoulder as they looked out at crystalline water and lush greenery from the balcony of a Nabooian lakehouse. He often dreamt of this place. It was where his grandparents had eloped, where he wanted to take her more than anywhere else in the galaxy.

“I missed you,” he murmured, full lips caressing the exposed skin of her shoulders, “so, so much.”

She tilted her head to the side and smiled as he nibbled teasingly at her throat.

“This is wrong, Kylo,” she breathed. If she said the words aloud, she might be able to ignore her betrayal and pretend that she had _tried_ to push him away, like she should have been doing.

Possessive as ever, his arms closed tighter. “Not wrong enough for you to stay away.”

She had no argument to make. Ultimately, she always returned to her dreams, and it was getting harder to tell if that was because she had no choice but to sleep, or because she spent her waking moments yearning for him, even through the frustrated loathing she felt for both him and herself in equal parts.

Rey changed the subject. “Will you swim with me to the island?”

His hold on her softened as he relaxed, assured now that she wasn’t leaving.

They held each other in the cool water, naked and without shame, and he made love to her on the sand, every touch affectionate and reverent. He held her as they lay gasping in the sun, and then he crooned Alderaanian lullabies to her loose hair as they basked like reptiles. No matter how cold the night was in her tower, in her dreams, she was always pleasantly warm.

Mornings were a dreaded affair, when she wanted so badly to stay with him on the lake island, with its white sand and lapping waves and breezes. When she stirred, she was assaulted by the urge to weep.

His claws were in so deep, twisting closer to her poorly protected heart each time she slept.

Rey ate breakfast to make a point to Finn, but it was difficult to swallow when the memory of Kylo Ren feeding her tart fruits and salty, cured meats from his fingers still tingled on her lips. Everything she tasted was bland in comparison, and she was repulsed by herself for thinking as much when she had spent most of her life eating stale rations.

“Did you get some sleep?” Finn asked.

She sighed. “Yeah, I did.”

 _This isn’t how it’s supposed to be,_ she pressed to Kylo Ren’s mind.

He answered in the only way he knew how. _You don’t belong there._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated. :)


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